


A Memory We Can Use

by audreyslove



Series: Signed Sealed Delivered [7]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-06-11 06:42:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15309672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/audreyslove/pseuds/audreyslove
Summary: #OQHappyEnding week





	1. Chapter 1

When she started things with Robin she quickly discovered there’s a lot she didn’t know, or expect of him.

He’s very much a giver.  But it’s not entirely selfless.  It’s a kink, she thinks.

He likes giving orgasms.  He likes _seeing_ orgasms, really.  

And he really, really, really likes going down on her, every time they have been together, no matter how little time, or what the circumstances are, he always wants _that,_ he always wants to bury his face between her thighs, maybe not until she comes, but at least until she’s starting to, until she starts rocking into him.

He’s given her the best oral of her short life, and she’s terrified that she’s going to tell him that somewhere in the throes of passion (god that would be embarrassing, but it’s all she can think about every time his tongue works her up, how much _better_ this is with him than with anyone else).  Part of the reason why that’s the case seems to be because he’s so damn _eager_ about it, he has her convinced he gets as much out of it as she does (and that is _a lot_ so it’s quite a feat).

They haven’t had a lot of time, however.  It’s always rushed. Except it won’t be this weekend.  Neal’s taken Emma to his father’s cabin for a mini-holiday.  She will have the entire apartment to herself.

It’s really ridiculous to be planning on spending a weekend like this, an entire weekend with him.  She should be moving on from him, treating it like a random set of mistakes instead of this _thing_ she is so excited to do in the future (god she’s so excited to feel him inside her again).

Robin’s been telling her what he plans on doing to her.  In detail. She’s been getting the explicit texts for _two_ _weeks_ now.  

And it all involves her.  Watching her come, feeling her come, making her come, in all ways but the one way that would make _him_ get off, too.

She finally points it out in response to a particularly explicit text, one that reminds her _Only three days_ followed with _I am finally going to be able to eat you for as long as I want_ and _I want to feel you come over and over, watch you come for me, god I can’t wait._

Because, frankly, as she explains, _You know, there are other things we can do where *you* can actually get some pleasure out of this yourself. :)_

His response comes almost an hour later.   _Trust me when I say that watching and feeling you come is very pleasurable for me.  We almost never have proper time and I’ve still almost made a mess of myself while eating at you._

That seems ridiculous to her, but it’s _hot,_ sends a lick of heat up her neck as she pictures him between her thighs, torturously hard because giving her pleasure is _that_ much of a turn-on for him.

He’s sufficiently hyped the weekend enough to have her feeling giddy and ridiculous as it approaches, has her indulging in a massage and a brazilian wax (he’s going to be spending a lot of time there, after all).  She even rearranges her room, does laundry, cleans a bit, boxes up everything she’d rather Robin not see. It’s not much, some sentimental things she still has of Daniel, which is frankly embarrassing at this point, a few letters from Cora she definitely does _not_ want to talk about (she wishes she had the strength to throw them away), some of her more boring underwear, some clothes that either don’t quite fit or semi-embarrass her.

Emma makes a comment on the impromptu cleaning.  She’s suspicious but delightfully distracted by the idea of a weekend away with Neal, so she doesn’t read too much into it.

She’s adjusting her netflix queue, reorganizing delivery menus (this is ridiculous they don’t have to spend the _entire_ weekend in bed, but… well, would it be so bad if they did?)

Emma is late to leave on Friday night, so Regina starts to ready herself for the weekend while Emma is still packing last minute items and switching outfits.

“Where are you off to tonight?” Emma asks, tilting her head as Regina redoes eye makeup.  Regina’s already dressed, and it’s supposed to be casual, but it’s a tight red top that shows a generous amount of cleavage, and those indigo jeans Emma _knows_ she only wears when she wants to look her best.

And shit, she has no lie readily prepared, and no idea what her friends are doing.

“I, um…. oh, there’s a guy who wants to take me out,” she says, because Emma has a lie detector built into her somewhere, and this isn’t _technically_ a lie.

“I knew that,” Emma says, her eyes wandering over her outfit.  “Is it Jefferson again?”

It’s too risky to give an answer, less Emma know where he’s planning to be, or him to show up on social media without her, so Regina shakes her head. “Someone new.”

Emma frowns and squints.  “Why haven’t you told me about him yet?”

Regina’s cheeks flush and she takes a deep breath.  “Emma…” she draws out, thinking of how to answer. “It’s complicated.  It’s mostly physical. It won’t lead anywhere. And I worry you won’t like him.”

“If I don’t like him it’s probably for a good reason,” Emma grouches.  “But it’s too late for my opinion to matter much anyway, you look like you can’t wait to run off to him. Is the sex really that fantastic?” Emma teases.

And she shouldn’t, she’s talking about Emma brother, but she can’t help it.  “Best sex I’ve ever had,” she admits, then groans because it’s true. “Really, very very good.”

  
“When I get back from this weekend you are giving me _details,”_ Emma commands, and a part of Regina is mortified, the other part of her struggling not to laugh.  Poor Emma has no idea what she’s asking.


	2. Chapter 2

Neal and Emma finally leave at 8:49, and Regina knows because she is nervously checking her phone every second, texting Robin a warning  _ They are still here.  DO NOT COME UP YET. _

He answers her texts a few minutes after 9.  

_ Is the coast clear? _

Adrenaline surges through her veins as she tells him yes, to please visit as soon as he can.

And it’s less than five minutes before she hears a knock on the door.

She practically flies to the door and smiles at the sight of him.  

He smells like that cologne he uses only on rare occasion, wearing jeans she likes and a baby blue shirt she’s complimented before, his hair is styled so perfectly she  _ knows  _ he worked hard on it.  He’s got that little bit of scruff on his face that she will pretend is for her — she’s always liked him with a bit of hair.  There’s a little duffel bag over his shoulder with his coat hanging off of it (must have taken it off in the lobby… eager). He just looks… hot and adorable and sweet at the same time.

He shuts the door and throws the duffel bag down next to it, smiling almost shyly as he says, “Hi.”

“Hey,” Regina says, “I thought we might—mmm!“

But she doesn’t get to the part about ordering a late dinner because he picks that moment to place his hands on either side of her cheeks and kiss her.  One hand moves to play with her hair, the other slides down her body, until he’s cupping and groping at her ass through denim.

She slides a hand around his neck and kisses him back, and then she feels both his hands sliding down to her rear, cupping, then urging her up.  She lets him take her in his arms, lets him pin her to the wall as her legs wraps around his waist.

He kisses her a bit longer, then breaks the kiss to whisper _You_ _look so gorgeous_ in her ear.

It makes her go warm for a second, she knows how he feels, still, she loves the compliments.  “You too,” she says. And then her lips move to his neck, and she breathes in the scent of him, digging teeth into the crook of his neck and sucking lightly.  

He likes this, when she’s aggressive like this, and it never fails to make him moan.  This time it’s deep, and guttural, ends with a desperate puff of air, as if he’s conceding defeat.

“Regina,” he gasps, as she dives in for seconds, placing another little bite just a little further south of the first.  He squeezes at her ass tight enough to send a warm punch of lust through her. She wants him all over her, her mind swims with different scenarios even as he’s against her, his lips on hers until her parts, panting, “God, love, can we — do you mind if we—” 

“Bedroom,” she pants, and now her legs have a vice grip around his waist, clenching around him to squeeze even tighter for a moment.

“Mm,” he moans, before capturing her lips.  He carries her to the door, kissing her the entire way, and she feels almost weightless the way he is handling her, as if his hands weren’t full with the weight of her.

He kicks her door open with a soft grunt, smiles devilishly and reclaims her lips.  And then he breaks the kiss to plop her on the bed. They let go of each other a bit too early, so her body falls onto the mattress and bounces up a bit, which makes her laugh. 

But he’s not laughing.  Instead of lying on the bed beside her he’s standing over her pulling up her shirt and pressing a kiss to her belly button. Then he sits back up and his thumbs loop underneath the waist of her jeans, fingers splayed over the button, and then his eyes meet hers, waiting until she nods and smiles.

He always is like this, as hungry as he is for her, he always waits for her to tell him what she wants.  

He begins to pull her jeans off with a bit of force (she likes that, he knows it), but her underwear starts to come down with it, and she realizes she  _ wants  _ him to see what she’s wearing, so she grabs at the hem and yanks it back up.

Robin chuckles but doesn’t stop peeling her jeans off.  And when he’s tossed them on the floor, he looks back at her and admires the lace trimmed underwear with a little smirk.  He hooks his fingers underneath her shirt and she nods, lifts up as she throws it off.

Her bra matches, bright blue with black lace trim. She wanted something bold, eye catching, something that would make his jaw drop.  But it seems so frivolous now, seeing the way he looks at her.

She just should have answered the door naked, all these clothes are so unnecessary.

“I love it,” Robin assures her, kissing her deeply, his hands cupping and squeezing her breast through the thin bra.  And then he rasps, “Is it new?”

She nods and cups his cheek, drags him back into a scorching kiss.  

“I’m going to pretend you bought it thinking of me,” Robin whispers in her ear, punctuating the retort with a little nibble of her ear.

She laughs and rolls her eyes as if to say  _ Don’t flatter yourself.   _ But she did have him in mind when she bought this set, absolutely.  And the two others she has tucked away to wear if the mood strikes her for the rest of the weekend.  But she’s not going to tell him that. She’s not going to say she went into a lingerie shop and looked for things for this weekend, for  _ Robin  _ to see and take off.  The sheer amount of money she’s spent alone embarrasses her.  You don’t buy lingerie for your casual sex friend. But then again she’s pretty sure making plans in advance for an entire weekend is against the rules too.

Robin draws back until he is sitting up on bended knees between her thighs, her legs parted wide around him.  He smiles at her again, and let’s a hand skim over her skin, lazy fingertips wandering down from her neck, around the curve of her bra, and down over her thong.  She’s already worked up, and his fingers come precariously close to her clit, even through the fabric, something stirs within her, and there’s a little rush of warmth and electricity for what’s to come.

“Regina,” he says softly, too softly, too sweetly, so thank god he follows it by pulling down the cup of her bra until her right breast if free, leaning down to suck on a nipple that’s already showing signs of how aroused she is. “I need this off.”

She nods, let’s him reach around and pop open the clasp of her bra, slide the straps down her arms and free herself of the garment entirely.

“Fuck,” he groans, his eyes going wide.  He’s always like that, taking off pieces of her clothes as if it were wrapping paper, looking at her bare skin as if it were a christmas present. He gives her breasts a little gripe, palms reaching under and thumbs circling around the nipple.  Her left nipple is extra responsive, the pleasure is so acute, so strong, she squirms and gasps under the touch. 

He notices immediately, looks up to her with a devilish grin before leaning over her and taking a nipple in her mouth, one then the other.

“So sensitive,” he murmurs into her skin, before nibbling her tenderly.  

It’s been awhile, a long while, since she’s even really given  _ herself  _ a release, let alone let someone else try it, so perhaps that’s why her body is crying out for this more than usual.  She tries her best to savor everything, to tamp down her excitement and libido and just… feel. 

But she really, really, wants his tongue right now.  He’s spent weeks talking about how he was going to use it on her, and now she’s wet, and ready, and underneath him, and he’s in no apparent hurry to satisfy her at all.

Instead he seems to be quite willing to torture her. His body is pinned over hers, torso between her legs, and she frowns and thrusts into him in frustration as he covers her breasts in sweet, sucking kisses, swirling and giving a little nip to the breasts that she’s come to love.

He chuckles at her impatience, warm breath on damp skin, and she feels goosebumps rising at the feel of it.

“I want you,” she rasps as seductively as she can muster.  It’s nothing he doesn’t know, but he loves to hear her say it, and god if that’s what it takes for him to finally snap into action, she will give it to him.

He does react, moans a bit into her skin and looks up at her.  “Want you too, wanted you like this for so long. Wanted you for the whole night, no rush, no hiding.”

She wonders for how long he’s wanted this.  They only just slept together for the first time in December, but they’ve wanted it for far longer than that, since long before they even kissed, really.

But wanting a whole evening, a whole night together, that’s something different isn’t it?  And maybe that is why he is being painfully slow with her now.

She takes matters into her own hands, yanking at the hem of his shirt and pulling it, until he shifts enough to help her take off.

She likes his chest — really anyone would, it’s lean and muscular, not overly defined so he looks like a bodybuilder. She smoothes a hand over, from pectorals to abs, and leans up to place a kiss right above his left nipple, let’s her teeth graze the skin before planting another and swirling her tongue over it.  

Robin groans, in that frustrated way he has.  He’s breaking, thank god, resituates himself so he’s hovering over her, and starts working his way down her body, little open mouth, tongue filled kisses on bare skin.

“God I’ve missed your tongue,” she sighs, and then regrets it when Robin stops to look up at her with that cute little smile. 

“Do you?  Tell me more.”

She huffs a frustrated breath and shuts her eyes.  “Rob _ in! _ ” And then, when he chuckles and turns his attention back to kissing her torso, she gives up, and adds, “I want you to go down to me.”

He groans, licks where her left leg meets her hip.  “Can't wait. When you are all worked up, I will, I’m just going to sink my tongue into you and—” 

“Robin,  _ please!”  _ she huffs.  

She feels his warm breath on damp skin, and then she adds, “We’ve had foreplay for days, now, I want it now.”

“Mm, I know. It’s been awhile,” he groans.

It  _ has  _ been awhile — and that’s partially her fault.  She thought she was somehow making things less… romantic or real if she made up for this weekend by keeping him at a distance these last few weeks.  So though he’s been sexting her like crazy, she’s conveniently avoided him for the past several weeks. 

The talk of the distance makes him a bit more eager, she feels his hot breath over her sex, and then he takes a deep, firm lick through her folds.  She’s slick and hot between her thighs, knows that, and his hungry moan has her biting her lip to suppress one of her own. But then he moves away, the bastard kissing his way to her right hip, away from where she needs him.

“Rob— _ in _ !” She moans, and he chuckles into her thigh, the feeling of hot breath kissed flesh cause goosebumps to flare, her body to go hyper sensitive.

Her clit is  _ throbbing  _ as he kisses his way down her right thigh, and there’s no way to get relief from the pulsing need, her hips jutting in the air helplessly, searching for something to quell the ache.

And he’s obviously not listening to her and doesn’t seem to be stopping this torture anytime soon, so….

She reaches her own hand between her thighs.  God, she’s swollen and slick, practically dripping, why the fuck did he think she needed more teasing?

She slides three firm fingers over her clit and let’s out a whoosh of air, waiting for Robin to scold her, or better yet, move her hands away so he can take control himself.

She feels his unshaven cheeks scratch at her thigh, his lips and tongue leave her, and this is it, he’s going to stop her, one way or another, so she better get what relief she can.  She rubs those fingers up and down her clit, firmly, before changing into this circular motion that has her close, hips thrusting into her touch as she presses hard and—

She lets out this sound, somewhere between a moan and a grunt, the pleasure of being touched after being denied it, after thinking and dreaming about it and not having it — it’s almost overwhelming.

“Fucking Christ, that’s hot.” Robin groans.  

Regina forces herself to stop, reaching for one of his hands.  “Make me come, Robin, please, I need it so bad…”

She thinks she has him there from the way he looks at her, he even swipes a few fingers down her sex, a murmured  _ Fuck, you really do need it. _

But he stops, the asshole.  “I want to see you make yourself come,” he whispers, “you’re all worked up, so sexy, seeing you take care of yourself…” He lets out a whoosh of air,  “I really want to see you do it.”

He looks a bit desperate, desperate and so, so cute begging for her to come in front of him.  She’s never really done this before with a guy. Graham had used a toy on her, but she’s never even worked it herself in front of him, and really, she’s never come from that with Graham.  She felt too on display, felt the urge to perform instead of just to feel.

She doesn’t feel that with Robin, at all.  The idea of getting off with him sounds  _ very  _ hot, especially if he’s touching himself as well.  

“If I do this you have to strip.” She motions down to his jeans.  “And you have to jerk off too.” 

He chuckles and lets out an amused  _ My wish is your command  _ and moves so he’s no longer between her thighs, stands at the foot of the bed and quickly unbuttons and unzips his jeans, taking them and his boxers down in a swift motion.  Then he sits down on the bed next to her, his cock already in his hand.

“No faking,” he whispers gently, and she almost balks at the suggestion.  She’s so damn close, faking it isn’t something she’s considered.

“You either,” she sasses back.  He chuckles and shakes his head.  

“Touch yourself please,” he rasps, giving his cock a firm stroke.

She watches the motion and it spurs her desire.  

He’s hard - very hard - foreskin retracted, the tip of him swollen, god she hasn’t even touched him yet and he looks like he’s about to pop.

Her hand settles back between her legs, fingertips lightly rolling over her clit. 

“God…” she whispers.

“No need to be quiet, love,” Robin reminds, his hand still on his cock, “fuck you’re beautiful, let me hear you, so good,  _ mm!”  _

She teases her nipple with her free hand, just a light, simple twist, and then she gives her clit those firm rubs, and lets out a slightly louder moan  It feels freeing, actually, to not have to be quiet with Robin.

She breathes out his name, nice and low, just because she can.

“I’m here, love,” he says next to her, his free hand wandering down to her nipple.  “Christ, I’ve pictured you doing this… so goddamn much.”

That sends a punch of lust to her, has her moaning a bit as she thinks of Robin thinking of her, imagining her when she’s not there, with his cock 

“Did you?” She asks, her voice sounds breathy, sexy, good.  She takes direct contact off her clit, spreads her index and middle finger on either side and gives it a firm rub. 

She wants to draw this out, if she can.  

“Mmm... “ his eyes are on her sex, watching her touch herself.  “Before I ever even kissed you, used to think of you like this.”

She thinks of Robin, of nights she tried to deny her attraction to him that left her frustrated and horny and exhausted.  More than once her hand found its way down her pants, getting off thinking about him despite the fact they were only supposed to be friends — or, at the point she first thought about him, he was supposed to be Emma’s off-limits older brother.

But he was so hot, and she wanted him so much…

“I used to think about us too,” she gasps, and then, she is thinking about him, she’s back in that moment of being a first year coed trying to hide her excitement each time Emma mentioned that Robin was in town.  Trying hard not to give away how much she wanted him. Something always happened, there was always something he said or did that made her weak, had her burning off all that sexual tension the first moment she had time alone. 

She stops teasing herself for just a second, goes back to those firm strokes over her clit, and moans, a bit frustrated.  “Of course I fantasized about you actually  _ touching _ me.  You really thought about this?”

He chuckles, “Might have a thing for it,” he admits, a little sheepish.

But it seems rather boring, just watching her get off like this, despite the fact that watching Robin stroke his cock is anything but, to her.

She takes her hand off herself, sits up and herself around robin instead and pulls herself into a kiss.

He goes with it, he always does.  When she takes control it’s really anything she wants.  

Her clit is still aching, but she almost enjoys delaying things.  She likes prolonging it, having more time to just revel in the feeling of being with him.

“Tell me what you pictured.”

He cups her head and urges her back into another long kiss before breaking away and said “Just what you were doing.  Maybe with some fingering.”

Ah.  That.

“Maybe?” she teases, and she swears Robin blushes a bit.  

“A lot of fucking your fingers pretending it was my cock, if you must know.”

She raises her eyebrows and smiles but doesn’t judge.  That’s a nice fantasy, anyway.

“Can you?” He asks in that quiet raspy voice of his she loves. “Because I might have pictured it more than once.  Or more than a hundred times.”

Regina laughs, just a bit of a giggle, and then she is shaking her head.  “I don’t usually…. To get off I don’t usually do that.”

“Oh,” Robin says, clearly masking his disappointment.  “I really just want to see you come, not matter—”

“It’s not because I don’t  _ like  _ it,” she smiles, laying back down.  “It’s the angle.” She shows him, reaching between her legs and pressing her fingers inside herself.  “The angle and the pace I like… It just doesn’t work as well, for me, this way.”

Her explanation of how things don’t work seems to do nothing for his arousal, he still gasps as she touches herself, still moans as she gives herself a few test thrusts with two fingers.  It’s not  _ great,  _ but it’s not bad either.  She’s just never been great at keeping her fingers in the right position for long enough to come, seems she always cramps up, or loses control before that.  

She turns over on her side and reaches towards her dresser drawer and opens the small drawstring bag.  

“When I’m in the mood and want to get off  _ that way _ ,” she explains showing him the long vibe.  “I use this.”

His eyes go wide, and she watches as his adam apple bob as he swallows.  

“If you use that in front of me, I might just die.”

She laughs, and lays down on her back.  “I don’t’ want you to die, but—”

“I’ll risk it.” Robin says too quickly.  “Please, continue. Does it… vibrate?”

“Yes,” Regina says, drawing it down over her clit before dipping it inside herself for a moment.  “But it doesn’t really work that well, anymore, so I don’t use the vibrations.”

Robin smirks.  “Did you wear down the battery from overuse?”

Regina blushes and rolls her eyes, trying to sound confident and cheeky when she teases “Don’t get so excited.  It’s a cheap toy. It didn’t take long to wear out.”

“Don’t care, going to pretend you used it constantly thinking of me,” Robin says just above a whisper, his hand on his cock once more.

He’s not entirely wrong, though, this has been a substitute for Robin for longer than she cares to admit.  

She presses the toy in, and it’s three thrusts until she gets the angle right, letting out a little moan when she finds the right spot.

“S’that it?” Robin asks, his eyes fixated on her.  

“Mm,” Regina says, “Right there, it’s…” well it’s fucking fantastic when it hits just like this, is what it is.  “It’s good.”

“Go slow first,” Robin asks.  He watches as Regina works herself up, going slow, then picking pace just a bit, until he says, “yeah, just like that, nice and deep, the way I’d fuck you.”

He does fuck her like this (could be fucking her like this right now if he weren’t so into foreplay).  She sighs, shuts her eyes for a bit, focuses on the feeling of it. 

Slow, steady, in and out, pumping against her g-spot with every thrust.

“Fuck…” she hears herself gasp, “want you.”

“Yeah?” she hears him, his breath heavy, “want my cock?”

“Yesss,” she hisses.  “I’ve used this so many times thinking about you and — mm! — s’good — I—” 

“You look so fucking hot right now,” Robin moans.  She can hear him jerking himself, opens an eye just see the way his hand is moving over his cock.  She matches the pace he’s set against his hands, quickens it, so she’s fucking herself a bit faster.  God, it feels so good.

“First time I thought about you,” he says in a husky little groan as he speeds up and pumps his cock a bit faster, his free hand teasing one her nipples in a way that has her gasping  _ harder _ , “was right after the first time I ever met you.  You were so fucking hot that day, during Thanksgiving, and I tried, —- mm! — but I couldn’t help myself, you were, fuck!, you were on my mind for so long after that, god, Regina, your ass in that little skirt, you looked so fucking hot, I just wanted to drag you to an empty room, slam you against a wall, ruck up that skirt, grab your ass and fuck you so hard, and—”

God she loves when he talks to her and tells her how much he wants her.  Since he’s started sending her dirty texts she’s craved more, and hearing details like this has her feeling  _ more,  _ wanting him even more.  He’s right there, but she’s fantasizing about taking him that night they first met too, and how good that would efel, to do it right away instead of waiting, and teasing, and flirting, and denying for so fucking long.  

“Mm— Robin!  I—- fuck! I thought about too.  Wanted you so bad — mmph!”

She feels his hand on her sex then, finally, and when she looks up it’s clear he’s giving her this, abandoning his own orgasm to help her with hers.  How chivalrous. His fingers circle around her clit and then press and rub, the way she craves. She moans a grateful  _ Thank god  _ before fucking herself harder, shutting her mind off and let herself feel, he’s rubbing at her clit in the way he’s learned she likes, tight, firm strokes, just the type of pressure that has her arching into the touch.  There’s strong waves of pleasure from both inside and on her clit, and it’s so rare that it’s  _ this  _ perfect at the same time.  She feels herself tensing around the toy in that fluttery way, god she’s close.  

“That’s it babe, come for me, I can see it, you’re close, so close, you’re so damn sexy like this, god, I can see how wet you are, how tight, you’d feel so good around me…”

He’s babbling more, saying dirtier things, but her mind shuts off the moment orgasm hits her.  It’s comes in like a steady crash, all nerve endings zing, the pleasure on her clit acute enough to have her gasping for air.  She wants to ride it out, the way she does when she’s fucking Robin, but the orgasm takes a bit of her coordination out of her, and her hand grows sloppy.  She almost gives up and takes the vibe out, but then she feels Robin hand move towards it. Robin’s free hand reaches, guides, takes over, thank god, and then he’s taking control of the device, letting her finish as she writhes and rocks freely.

She lets out a gasp of his name as the last of her orgasm leaves her, and then she opens her eyes and sees Robin watching her, eyes dark and lustful, mouth parted in a half-smile.  

“Good?” He asks.  

She stretches her limbs, indulging in the post-orgasm feeling and nods.  “Amazing.” She almost giggles as he says  _ Glad to hear it  _ and then she adds a, “Thank you.”

He leans down to kiss her and reminds her that he should be thanking her.

She wraps her hands around his neck and keeps him there, pressed against her lips, kissing as her hand travels downward and grasps at his erection.

Robin twitches at the touch, letting out a little grunt before thrusting into her palm.

When she breaks out of the kiss he’s breathing hard, lying next to her as she strokes him.  

“Fuck me,” Regina says softly, somewhere between a request and a command.  She watches his face, watches the way he looks at her, as she says it, watches his deep exhale, the way his eyes close shut, that dry swallow she’s seen several times before during their flirtations.  “Fuck me any way you want.”

They haven’t been together long but she can tell certain positions work better than other.  He likes doggy style, he likes taking her against a wall.

She’s a bit surprised when he’s kissing his way down her body (pauses to pay attention to her breasts and nipples, they are still sensitive and it feels amazing) and looking up at her with a shrug.  “I haven’t properly tasted you yet.”

She’s still a bit too sensitive from her orgasm to have her clit touched directly, but he knows her body, knows it well.  He kisses her inner thigh and then just… eats at her. 

“God you are so soaked,” Robin moans, “watching you work yourself up, seeing how wet you want, god I wanted to taste you so badly.”

“You should have,” Regina says a little breathy, “wanted you to so bad.”

“Couldn’t stop watching you,” Robin mumbles, and then he licks at her a bit, as if he’s unable to resist, before saying “you’re so fucking beautiful when you’re getting yourself off, you don’t even know.”

HIs tongue darts through where she’s still wet and tingling.  He  _ moans  _ during this, it’s so fucking hot, as if he’s eating some decadent meal and he can’t resist expressing pleasure about.  She opens her thighs wider, and lets her hand travel down to his head, rubbing her fingers through his hair as his tongue delves deeper.

“OH! Robin!  Please!” She doesn’t have to ask for it, his intention was clear, but it’s still nice when his tongue slides inside her, and then out, thrusting in and out.  

She’s feeling sexy and wanted, and knowing his fantasies involve her wanting him badly have her wanting to show him how much she really does want him (they  _ really  _ shouldn’t be thinking about one another this much, this situation is dangerous — but that’s a thought for another time).  So she pushes his head into her sex further, and moans “Deeper”.

She didn’t expect he could go much deeper, but he manages, shifting the angle a bit as he fucks her with his tongue.  It’s  _ good  _ this way, with his tongue darting inside, circling, pausing every few moments to eat at her sex, sucking all the residual wetness that’s dripping out.  It’s hungry and a bit frenzied, and loud — god it’s loud, the smacking of his lips, sucking and moaning, it’s all incredibly erotic, it’s  _ dirty  _ and needy, has her wanting to give as good as she is getting..

Robin does a test stroke of her clit then, just slides his tongue over quickly, his eyes on her as she does.

“MMm — s’good!  More, please, more of that.”  

“Fuck I love when you direct me,” he groans, “Like this, love?”

He’s giving her firm, long licks, slow, and it’s… nice, but not what she had in mind.  

“Faster,” she whispers, and then “more… quick and light.”

So he gives her those little taps of his tongue in quick succession, and fuck, that’s what she wants. 

Fuck he is so, so good with his tongue. 

“God Robin,” she groans, “love your mouth so much — mm!”  she rocks into him, a hand grips at his hair and presses him more firmly against her, and he doesn’t seem to mind, if anything, acts encouraged by her, humming into her sex as he eats at her.

“Can you, Robin, use your fingers.”  

“With pleasure.”   He readjusts slightly, and then there are two fingers sliding through her sex.

“Ohh! Yes! Robin!”  

He enters her slowly at first, until he finds the spot that makes her gasp, and then he’s going faster, faster shifts to those firm strokes without her having to ask for them.  The change is good, it works her up, she likes it harder like this as she’s close to orgasm. 

“Suck my — mmm!”  He sucks at her clit, hard, the way she likes, the way he discovered she liked before she ever knew to ask for it.  His fingers are hooked just perfectly, thrusting in and out rapidly, and she just surrenders to the feel of it, clenching down hard on his fingers as she moans and writhes.  He has a free hand around her middle, holding her in place, and the added touch is warm and welcoming, somehow adding to the intimacy. She feels everything go tight and taut, release so close she can almost touch it, pleasure sparking with every thrust of his fingers, so, good, so good, so good...

“Robin, I—  _ fuckyouresogoodatthis —  _ I’m going to, again, fuck I want you to do this to me forever, I—“

All that tension bursts and erupts inside her, tingling warmth spreading from her belly outward.  It’s a  _ good  _ orgasm, has her gasping and riding it out for longer than usual, and when Robin tries to pull his fingers out she has to blindly grasp for his hand to keep it there.  

“Fuck,” she hears him mutter.  “I think I’m jealous.”

“Mm, you should be,” she pants.  She’s still spasming, still surrendering to those little pulses of pleasure.  

“Just keep taking what you need, love, you’re so gorgeous like this, can’t stop watching you, so hot…”

It’s a few more seconds before the sensation is less intense, little quaking aftershocks still reverberating inside her, but the last of her orgasm behind her.  

She could easily have another, feeling like this.

“Robin,”  she reaches up for him.  “Fuck me.”

“Are you… already?”

“Mmmhmm, I want more, please.”

He leans down to kiss her and smiles. “I won’t last long,” he admits.  

“Don’t care, just want to feel you.” She smiles and leans up to kiss him. “Want you to be selfish and take me how you want.  How would you like it?”

He smiles, strokes at her cheek, and says, “This way.” His kneels at between her legs.

She didn’t expect this. She had thought on a weekend alone he would be particularly adventurous, would try positions they hadn’t explored.  That’s what casual fuck friends do, right? They usually don’t have much time for anything more than a quick fuck against against the wall, or on his lap in a car. There’s been times in bed but they have to be quiet, and with the threat of someone walking in or coming home early.  But he’s gearing up for a simple missionary fuck. 

She actually loves this with him, it just feels nice with him on top of her, all around her.  It feels close. It might not get her off the easiest, on paper — he hits her at the best angle from behind — but she likes being able to fuck him this way, where she can touch and kiss him and see him as he moves in her.

Robin raises one of her legs in the air and she smiles as he kisses the calf before leaning it against his shoulder.  And then he takes himself in his hand and guides himself home.

She’s slippery, he goes in so easily.  She didn’t realize how much she wanted to feel him inside of her until now.  She’s been waiting for it through everything, imagining what he feels like. Her memory doesn’t do the feeling of him justice.  He’s thick, god, so hard, she clenches around him immediately and gasps as he begins to move. 

One hand is on her hip, the other on her breast, pinching and rolling a hard nipple between her fingers, it sends a shock to her clip, has her gasping out  _ Like that  _ and  _ Don’t stop _ .

He doesn’t, he shifts back and forth, from breast to breast, giving each attention until she cries out for him, then switching.

He’s still moving slowly inside of her, and she can tell he’s holding back for her.  He looks a sight, all sweaty and disheveled, his mouth half opened as he bites his tongue hard, eyes narrowed and focused on her, god she loves him like this.

“Fucking Christ, Regina, you feel…mm!” 

As if he can’t take it anymore, he careens forward, so he’s hovering over her, kissing her, and then he quickens the pace, fucking her hard and deep and exactly how she craves.

“Mm, love the way you fuck me, so good like this, perfect…” she’s kissing and gasping between words, enjoying not worrying about the sound of them, not caring that the bed is squeaking noisily, that  _ they  _ are loud as they chase pleasure.  

One of her legs is hooked over his shoulder while he moves, the other flat on the bed.  She’s lucky she’s flexible, because this position is actually  _ working  _ well, the angle hitting perfectly, each thrust makes her a bit  _ more,  _  the feeling sharper, more acute, everything intensifies, escalates, and— 

“God Regina, you feel too good, I’m,  _ Jesus Christ!”  _ He shouts out as she pulses around him, squeezing hard around his cock, everything building and building.  “God I love you so much like this, so good, so perfect, I—“

“You too,” she gasps, and then everything topples over as she falls yet again, everything spins and swirls, warm fissures of pleasure singing and popping inside her veins as she comes and comes.  

She feels him jerking faster inside of her, watches his adam apple bob as he rasps, “God, love, was that it?  Can I come inside you, want to so bad, you feel so good…”

She nods and hisses out a  _ Yessss  _ and  _ Pleaseeee  _ and palms at his ass encouragingly, urging him to go faster, take her deeper.

He leans down to kiss her and then his movements go quick, a bit uncoordinated as she’s learning he does right before he comes.  She grasps at him tighter and whispers into his ear, “Come inside me, just let go, I want to feel you come for me…”

“Mm — Regina — God what you do to me, I,  _ fuck _ !”

She can see the way his release takes him, how his face screws in relief, panting heavily, a grateful smile on his face as he rides it out.

And then he leans back, kisses her ankle, and lets her leg fall to the bed with the other.

It’s only then she realizes it aches a bit, the position was good, but it certainly stretched her leg muscles.  A good ache, though, like the dull ache in overworked muscles from  _ three  _ orgasms, fuck.

God, she can’t imagine  _ this  _ being better with anyone else, she’s so damn spoiled by him.

She can’t imagine settling for mediocre sex, or even fantastic sex that isn’t on  _ this level.   _ Maybe she will find someone agreeable to the idea of an open relationship, so she can keep fucking Robin secretly forever.

Jesus what a ridiculous thought. There’s no need to think about he future right now.  She’s not settling down anytime soon and she doubts Robin will be either, so she can enjoy this, for now, without worrying about how she will ever say goodbye to this.  

Robin urges her to lay her head on his chest, which she does with a satisfied moan.  His heart is still beating fast, and he’s still catching his breath.

“We should pace ourselves,” she says wryly.  “You just got here. We have lots of time.”

Robin leans down and presses a kiss to her hair.  “Not enough,” he gruffs, rubbing her arm softly, and she wonders if he really wants a longer amount of time with her, if he thinks an entire weekend really is not enough time for just the two of them.  

“Did you eat?” Regina asks, “we can go out, or order something, or—“

“You hungry?” Robin asks, and Regina shrugs.  “Not really, but if you are—“

“Maybe later.” Robin sighs, that hand stops rubbing hers and he pulls her into a tight squeeze.  “I don’t get to hold you like this after sex. This is nice.”

It really  _ is  _ nice, not jumping out of bed at every sound, tugging on clothes in case she has to make a quick exit, or running right back to whatever party or event they snuck away from to release whatever tension they had worked up that day.

She feels herself fading, emotions of the day and vigorous sex making her sleepy.  And she doesn’t have to fight the sleep or worrying about it, they have the place to themselves, all weekend.

“This really is nice,” Regina says, snuggling in closer.

She falls asleep like that, just a quick nap, her head on his chest feeling him breath in and out, his hand threading through her hair gently, soothing her to sleep, her last conscious thought a hope that she hopes this weekend doesn’t go by too fast, because time with Robin alone, even just lying in his arms, this time is rare, and she wants to savor every last minute of it while she has it.


End file.
